


Gay Chicken Sucks

by mundaneone



Category: Glee
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mundaneone/pseuds/mundaneone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt wears woman’s underwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gay Chicken Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> From the Glee kink meme. Originally posted on LJ on 10-16-09

It’s not something he does often.  Or, well, it’s not an everyday thing at least.  But, see, the football team always had a thing for dumpsters, not wedgies so he felt safe enough that he could indulge himself from time to time.  It’s not like he wants to be a woman or anything or that he gets a kick out of it… it’s just… sometimes it feels nice.  They’re soft and silky and they cling in all the right places and he just likes them, ok?

 

Today’s pair is red and matches his sweater _perfectly_ and that type of color coordination just _cannot_ be ignored.  And if when he slid out of his baby (graciously re-bestowed upon him after that utterly cliché defying win he helped the football team with) his lips were curved upwards at the ends who was really going to notice? 

 

Ever since he joined the football team they keep expecting him to show up to their silly practices and it’s driving him crazy.  He honestly doesn’t know how Finn does it, balancing the two of them.  Course Finn had it easy in comparison; the Glee club was considerably more accepting of the jock than the football team would ever even think of being to Kurt.  As far as they’re concerned he’s still the geek they stuffed in a dumpster every morning for _years_.  They don’t do it now, of course.  Geek or not you don’t throw the kid who got you your first win in forever in a dumpster.  They _need_ him and it’s enough to make Kurt laugh, if he were the sort.  But that would counteract his wonderfully constructed brooding persona that no one actually seems to realize is there. 

 

But yeah… practice.  Which is actually freaking him the hell out right about now.  See, it all started earlier during the day while he’d been exchanging his English book for his Spanish at his locker.  Finn had come sauntering up, all wide smiles, and flung an arm around Kurt’s shoulders.

 

“Hey, Buddy, we got an extra practice today after school, don’t be late or coach’ll make you run laps till you puke!”  Finn had laughed and patted Kurt good naturedly on the back before sauntering away, not once noticing how all the color had drained from Kurt’s face and the horror that clouded his eyes at those words.

 

Practice.  _Football_ practice that involves uniforms and changing and other boys and OH GOD he’s wearing the _red ones_.  The red ones with the ruffles and the lace and the little black bows and Kurt feels himself sway just from the thought of it.  Forget any wins he’s ever helped them get, forget that a couple of the players are in Glee club now, forget everything because if they see what he has on under his (utterly fabulous) jeans he won’t survive.  They’ll lynch him and that’ll be that. 

 

He just… he won’t go.  He’ll book it for his car as soon as the bell rings and race out of there before any of the other boys even think about heading towards the locker rooms.  There’s one fatal problem to this plan, and _of course_ there is because nothing can ever just go his way.  See his last class, the class he needs to run like hell from?  Yeah, Finn’s in there with him.  And they’re _partners_ and Finn keeps grinning and telling jokes and Kurt wonders if he’s quick enough to outrun Finn once the other boy realizes he has no intention of going to practice.

 

The bell rings and Kurt has already shoved all his things in his bag and he’s getting up and preparing to dart towards the door when Finn (that good natured bastard) drops an arm around his shoulders again and starts talking about… actually Kurt really can’t focus because all he can hear is fear induced blood rushing in his ears.  He feels faint and Finn leads them towards the lockers and he wonders if he should confess his love or something now because he won’t last much longer. 

 

But Kurt’s a bright kid and he ducks into the bathroom, shucks his jeans and tugs the pants of his practice uniform up as quickly as he can.  When he gets back to his locker none of the boys seem to notice but Puck’s staring at him a bit too sharply.  Kurt shrugs it off, Puck can do what he wants, there’s no way he could have figured out Kurt’s secret.  He changes without incident, giving himself a mental pat on the back for being so freaking brilliant. 

 

Practice itself is relatively uneventful.  Sometimes the others will join into the little mini dance practices Kurt and Finn engage in during brief moments of down time.  They laugh and joke like it’s the best fun ever when not even a month ago they’d have dumped Kurt into the trash for doing the same thing.

 

Yeah, High school can shove it.

 

Afterwards Kurt drags, pretends to be engaged in other things besides undressing.  His teammates joke and laugh and shove at each other around him and none of them so much as look at him.  The locker-room is virtually empty and Kurt bends down to undo his cleats at last, waving goodbye to Finn when the taller boy leaves.  There are only a few stragglers and they’re gathering their things up as Kurt tugs his shirt over his head.  He’s alone, _finally_ , and he breathes a sigh of relief.  He cannot believe he’s going to get away with it.  God sure has a sick sense of humor, making him panic like that for nothing.  But the message has been received loud and clear: no more panties at school.  He can live with that, it’s what weekends are for, after all. 

 

Mood much improved Kurt allows his muscles to relax and starts singing Lady Gaga under his breath.  He’s swaying to the music, totally getting into it; his hips shimmy just a little when he pulls off his practice pants.  He’s reaching for his jeans when he hears it.  This sharp indrawn breath and Kurt freezes so quickly he imagines he can hear his bones creak.  Slowly, with the eagerness of someone expecting certain death, Kurt turns around.  And, Oh God, it’s _Puck_.  Forget dead, they won’t even find his body.

 

As if the entire thing couldn’t get any worse Kurt lets out this totally unmanly squeak, tripping over the bench his clothes had been on and toppling over.  He’s sprawled on the locker room floor in nothing but his pretty red under-things and Puck’s staring at him with eyes that are probably as wide as Kurt’s own.  And Kurt’s scared, hell he’s _terrified_ and he can’t think of anything to say and he’s either going to be sick or pass out and neither one of them are going to work out well for him.  Kurt’s not a coward, if he’s going to die he’s going to face it. 

 

But all Puck does is stare, his throat working like he can’t figure out what to say either.  And then, much to Kurt’s surprise, he turns and walks away.  If it had been anyone else Kurt would have called it running. 

 

Kurt can do nothing but gape for several moments before he eventually drags himself up and dresses.  His whole body is shaking and he cannot get the button of his jeans into its hole no matter how hard he tries.  His eyes sting and he’s ashamed when he feels a tear that feels scalding hot slide down his face.  He wipes it away in disgust before hauling his bag up and making a beeline for his car. 

 

When he gets to school the next day Kurt fully expects Puck to do something… less than pleasant to his person.  But when he spots Puck the taller boy takes one look at him before quickly averting his eyes and going back to talking to his buddies.  And that, that’s probably the greatest thing Kurt could ever hope for.  Because Puck, Puck is so disgusted he can’t even think about it, and if he’s not thinking about it he’s not going to punish Kurt for it.  It’s like yesterday never happened, God gave him a “get out of jail free” card and Kurt is not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  No way. 

 

Except maybe it wasn’t quite as free as he first thought.  Practice (for both of his extracurricular activities) is tenser.  Puck hasn’t done anything, meaning he won’t because Puck isn’t the type to wait and plan, that just isn’t how he works but Kurt is still not feeling 100%.  And he keeps catching Puck _looking_ at him.  He’ll feel eyes on him and as soon as he turns Puck averts his eyes quick enough to give himself whip-lash.

 

Frankly it’s driving Kurt crazy.

 

So, finally, after Glee practice one day over a week later he lingers.  Puck’s putting his guitar back in its case as the others all file out and Kurt steels himself and makes his way over to the jock.

 

“So,” he says, “we need to talk.”

 

Puck’s head snaps up, eyes comically wide, at the sound of his voice.  His eyes dart around like a frightened animal to realize that they’re alone.

 

It’s enough to take some of the fear away because, _really_?  “I’m not going to _jump_ you or anything.  God, Puck calm down.”  Puck’s looking at him now, eyes still wide and Kurt is really surprised at how his eyes will dart from Kurt’s face to his hips and back. 

 

Puck clears his throat, straightens and rolls his shoulders.  It’s a classic sign of aggression and Kurt almost backs off, _almost._ “No,” Puck says, “no we really don’t.”  He gets up and Kurt has to roll his eyes because this, he cannot take this. 

 

“Oh come on!  Hit me, stuff me in a dumpster, do _something_ because I cannot focus and if I can’t focus I’m not going to do well and I _need_ to do well.  You may be Mr. Popular but if I screw up that’s it.  Here, at Football.  So let’s just… let’s just get it over with.” 

 

Puck’s really looking at him now, eyes dark with anger and hands fisted at his side.  His nostrils are flaring like a bull’s and God this may not have been a good idea after all. 

 

“Do you do it a lot?” 

 

“What?”  Because conversation was definitely not on the list of things Kurt was expecting next. 

 

“You know,” and Puck makes a hand gesture in the general direction of Kurt’s crotch and, wait, _what_?

 

“Uh,” and this is just too surreal, “I did… well not a _lot_ you know?  And I don’t anymore.  Well, not to school anyway because I don’t think I could take another incident like… uh…”  He’s babbling, talking too fast and is this really happening? 

 

“You wanna be a girl or somethin’?” 

 

“What!?  NO!”  He cannot believe he is having this conversation.  And with _Puck_ of all people.  “I just… they feel nice.”  The sentence ends with an upward inflection that makes it sound like a question when it isn’t.  He hopes Puck doesn’t think Kurt’s asking if _Puck_ thinks they feel nice.  But Puck just kind of nods, his gaze far away and, yeah, he’s left the building. 

 

“So,” Kurt fiddles with the buttons of his sweater, unable to look Puck in the eye anymore, “you aren’t going to kill me then?”  He catches Puck shaking his head from the corner of his eye, “In that case can we just pretend it never happened?  Go back to ignoring each other completely or something so we can actually function properly?” 

 

Puck’s just kind of nodding, but he still doesn’t look like he’s all there.  But, well, Kurt will take what he can get. 

 

“Alright then.  Ok.”  He clutches his bag and takes a deep breath.  He’s almost at the door when Puck shoots out a hand that catches his arm like a bear trap and tugs him closer.  Kurt knows his eyes are wide, can feel the terror rise up like bile.  Oh God oh god ohgodohgodohgod- but all Puck does is run the fingers of his free hand up the sleeve of Kurt’s sweater.

 

“They were this color…” and he sounds almost awed and Kurt is definitely getting a headache from the emotional rollercoaster Puck has had him on since this whole stupid thing started.  Puck’s eyes dart to Kurt’s then back to where his fingers touch fabric.  “With bows, fucking bows.”  Kurt watches Puck’s Adam’s apple bob and tries to calm his breathing, tells himself he’s ok.  Puck’s eyes meet his again and then Puck tugs hard at his arm and Kurt stumbles forward and _Oh My God_ Puck smashes their lips together. 

 

For a moment Kurt’s utterly flabbergasted, then he’s indignant.  This is his first kiss!  His _first_!  It should be special and romantic and _mean something_.  It should be with someone he cares about.  He tries to pull back, a muffled protest trying to pass his lips.  But Puck presses closer, pulls Kurt in further, free arm coming up to wrap around Kurt’s shoulders and pull him in.  A warm tongue flicks across his lips once, twice, before Puck pulls away.  His eyes are dark and Kurt realizes with a shock that it’s arousal and not anger.  He feels dizzy and confused and he totally can’t take this anymore.

 

“Igottago,” is all he gets out before he takes off like a shot out of the practice room.  He leaves Puck staring after him, licking his lips and looking speculative. 

 

Things go back to normal.  Or, well, new normal.  As in still no dumpster dumping or tormenting and Glee practice that’s totally a mixed group and Puck not looking at him every couple seconds.  Kurt feels relieved and relaxed for the first time since The Panty Incident (capitalized and titled in his mind) occurred.  And they stay normal, for about two weeks.  It lasts two weeks until Kurt’s world tilts on its axis again.  He’s opening his locker to pick up his English text when he sees it.  It’s a small white box, the ones department stores put things in.  For a long moment Kurt just sort of stares at it, trying to actually place it in his mind.  Because _he_ didn’t put it there and he can’t think of anyone who would.  He wants to know what it is but he can’t seem to make himself move to see.  The warning bell rings and Kurt startles, casts a last glance at the Mystery Box before shutting his locker and heading to class.

 

This continues for most of the day.

 

Kurt will open his locker, eye the box, close his locker.  It’s when lunch rolls around that he eventually gathers his courage up and plucks the box from where it’s nestled amongst books and fashion magazine (and those muscle mags. April gave him.)  He heads to the bathroom, because, well… he’s not really sure.  He’s not sure if it’s a present or a prank and he takes several breaths to calm himself before tentatively lifting the lid.

 

Black tissue paper.

 

 _Black_ tissue paper. 

 

Kurt just sort of gawks for a second before carefully peeling it away to see what its hiding.  And once he does he really, _really_ , wishes he hadn’t.  It’s a pair of panties.  A. Pair. Of. Panties.  They’re black and silk and have a little red bow at the front.  For a long moment Kurt can only stare.  Because, seriously, what? 

 

It doesn’t take long for his brain to finally catch up.  Puck.  Puck gave him underwear.  _Nice_ underwear.  Like, more than $30 a pair underwear.  That seems sort of expensive for a prank.  If he were going for a prank wouldn’t he just buy a pair at Target or something?  Why go to a department store and pick out a pair that cost so much?

 

Unless they aren’t a prank?

 

Kurt shakes his head; of _course_ they’re a prank.  What else could they be?  Then again there had been that kiss… no that had to be some sort of joke too… somehow.  Kurt’s not a jock, he should really stop trying to rationalize they’re actions.  Especially _Puck’s_ actions, Puck who seems to contradict himself at every turn.  Kurt heaves a sigh because things had been going so well.  Now there’s this and Kurt needs to figure out what to do.  One option is to walk right up to the popular table, drop the box in front of Puck and say, “No thank you”.  Kurt giggles slightly hysterically at the thought.  As amusing as that’d be he’s pretty sure that would be a sure way to get the life beat out of him.

 

After practice it is then.  And today that means after _football_ practice.  So Kurt finds himself sitting on one of the benches in jeans and uniform top, filing his nails as the other players mill about and get ready to leave.  He can feel eyes on him and doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Puck. 

 

Finn’s the last to leave, eyes darting between where Kurt is sitting still filing his nails and where Puck is climbing out of the showers.  He looks nervous.  Kurt flashes him a smile and waves him on.  Finn quirks an eyebrow a ‘you sure?’ gesture that Kurt finds oh-so-endearing.  He shrugs at Kurt’s nod and heads out. 

 

It only takes a few seconds after the door closes for Puck to look up.  His eyes go to the door, around the locker room, to Kurt, down to the towel around his waist, back to Kurt.  He looks skittish and the entire situation is really driving Kurt crazy because it is violating every single one of the rules he’s had pounded into him since High School started. 

 

Well, if Puck wants to play some weird sort of gay chicken Kurt can get behind that.  He’ll scare Puck so badly he won’t even think about bothering him again.  Kurt stands up, tugs the top of his uniform up and off, lets it fall and takes purposeful steps in the stupefied jock’s direction.  He smirks internally when Puck stumbles back to plop on a bench, his eyes wide and focused on Kurt. 

 

 

“What-” He wants to ask what Puck thinks he’s doing, but his brain malfunctions when Puck leans closer, presses his lips to Kurt’s hipbone, right above where the panty-line is.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, wasn’t how it was supposed to go _at all_ and he finds he’s actually sort of scared.  This was supposed to be it, just flash a bit of panty and flirt a little to send Puck running.  It wasn’t supposed to _escalate_.  Puck’s not supposed to be this willing to sacrifice his heterosexuality for the sake of some _stupid game_.  And Kurt can’t back down, can’t try to run because that’ll just make Puck chase and _oh god_ he should have just ignored it until he stopped. 

 

“ _Jesus_.” Puck breathes and it sounds like it’s being ripped out of him.  “Holy fuck.”  The hands on his hips grip harder and Kurt finds himself being pulled forward, forward until he stumbles and lands awkwardly in Noah-fucking-Puckerman’s lap.  He brings his hands up automatically to brace himself and they flutter helplessly on Puck’s shoulders before deciding to settle.  Both their eyes are wide and they’re breathing much too hard and Kurt just doesn’t know what to do anymore.

 

“What do you _want_ from me,” he practically sobs it and God, but that’s pathetic.  But he, he just can’t take this anymore.  It’s _killing_ him.  “This isn’t funny, you know?  You win, ok?  Game over, knock it off.”  His fingers clench against bare skin. 

 

Puck seems to content to ignore him, fingers trailing along the line of the underwear.  One arm wraps around Kurt’s waist, draws him even closer.  The hand tickling along his pants slide back, back until it’s shoved under his jeans running along smooth fabric.

 

They both shudder at the sensation. 

 

And it’s then that Kurt gets it, that he finally gets it.  “ _Oh_ ,” and it’s hardly more than a breath but it makes Puck jerk his head up and suddenly they’re looking at each other.  Really looking at each other.  “You actually… you _like it_.” 

 

Puck’s looking at him like he’s crazy, “Hummel… are you _just_ figuring that out?”  Puck snorts, total confidence suddenly restored and his hand moves with more assurance now.  “And here I thought I was being obvious.” 

 

And ok, yeah, now that he’s reviewing the past couple weeks it does make complete sense but… but it’s _Puck_ and… nope, still can’t wrap his mind around that.  But, well, he’s sitting in Puck’s lap and the taller boy is trailing kisses up his neck, his hand stroking and Kurt feels his hips start to rock without telling them to.  Puck utters a low groan and pulls him impossibly closer, rocking his hips upwards to meet Kurt’s desperate thrusts with his own.  And it’s good, it’s really good and Kurt’s never felt anything like this before.  God another first, another of his firsts and Puck’s going after it like he’s collecting them now. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” it’s panted hotly against his ear and Kurt blinks, lets his arms loop around Puck’s neck, fists one hand in as much hair as he can.  “ _God,”_ the taller teen continues, “been thinking about this, couldn’t stop thinking about it since I saw you in them, Jesus _fuck_ hottest damn thing I’ve ever _seen._ ” Kurt really wishes he could articulate a proper reply but he’s too busy panting like a cheap whore and moving his hips like he did during “Push It”. 

 

He doesn’t last long, it’s too intense.  His head drops onto Puck’s shoulder and he keeps make these breathy little gasps and whines and he’d be embarrassed but from the filth spewing itself from the other teen’s mouth Puck doesn’t seem to mind all that much.  His fingers clench and a shiver races down his spine, he can’t breathe, gasps desperately in Puck’s ear. 

 

Puck practically _growls_.  His hips move faster, harder.  His hand stops sliding along the silk of the panties and grips Kurt’s hip, holding him still as he fucks up into him.  And now _there’s_ a thought.  Doing this naked and with Puck, _oh._   Puck comes with a harsh groan muffled against the flesh of Kurt’s neck. 

 

They stay like that for a little while, panting wetly against each other’s skin before pulling back.  They’re both sweating and their eyes are blown wide, all pupil.  Kurt gulps in air like he’s drowning.  He can’t even bring himself to blink, afraid of what’ll happen.  But Puck surprises him, again, and leans forward to brush their lips together.  It’s soft and sweet and Kurt makes this ridiculous happy purring sound as he returns it, loops his arms back around Puck’s neck.  The fingers are back, tickling against his skin as they trace the underwear. 

 

“I bet they’re totally trashed.”

 

Kurt giggles, leans backwards and he’s internally pleased at the way it makes Puck’s eyes roll back slightly.  “Well… I guess I’ll just have to get another pair then.” 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
